 | Poems |  |
27
PASSION'S WISHES.
I wish I were the silver moon
Upon my Maia beaming!
For then she'd delight
To walk in my sight,
Where the waters bright are streaming.
All night I on her charms would gaze
Through her window, while she was sleeping;
I'd scare with my light
The ills of the night,
'Till morn my love-watch keeping!
Upon my Maia beaming!
For then she'd delight
To walk in my sight,
Where the waters bright are streaming.
All night I on her charms would gaze
Through her window, while she was sleeping;
I'd scare with my light
The ills of the night,
'Till morn my love-watch keeping!
I wish I were the golden sun—
All day I'd gaze upon her;
Her face so bright
With rays of light
I'd encircle, to glory and honour!
Her bosom cold I then might warm,
And my passion, she might return it;—
Or else, in the skies
I never would rise,
That all the world might mourn it!
All day I'd gaze upon her;
Her face so bright
With rays of light
I'd encircle, to glory and honour!
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And my passion, she might return it;—
Or else, in the skies
I never would rise,
That all the world might mourn it!
| Poems | |